SplitStory
by Heaven's Wordsmith
Summary: [One-Shot collection] Blue is a Black Wing. Neinheart is Ereve's head tactician. Yet, they've fallen for each other.
1. Corruption

The corrupted temple of time always had such a tense, somber atmosphere about it. It was always so cold to Blue even in the long sleeves of her Black Wings uniform. The chill seeped through the heavy, black fabric. The sound of her knee-high boots thudding against the floor echoed across the hall.

She had never been allowed to see the master before, but her latest acts of treachery on behalf of the Black Wings, having successfully apprehended the Resistance in one of their rescue missions and returning the captive they sought to wrongfully free, had earned the trust and respect of Commander Orchid. And so she sought to face the dark master.

Blue placed a hand on the door to his chamber, but hesitated, stifling an uneasy breath. _How should I address him?_ She wondered. _I know he's been sealed up, but surely he can still hear me? It isn't like he's dead, just sleeping._ She stopped. _But what would Neinheart think if he knew I was here? Would he hate me? Why does he view the dark master with such stupid apprehension?_ She stared up at the carving on the door; twisted imagery of Rhinne's sacred symbol. Corrupt just like the Black Mage. _Even if Neinheart disapproves, I hope the master sees favor in me._ She pushed the giant door opened and turned solemnly.

The air in his chamber was different. It remained still and somber, but Blue could feel the darkness tickling her skin and even brushing against her very soul. She relished in it with a wicked grin. She knelt down low before the Black Mage.

The transcendent of light was suspended in air and in time itself with his disfigured hand reaching out, remaining in place of the last curse he hexed. His appearance alone was enough to make Blue tremble.

"Commander," she dared to utter. "I'm honored to be in your presence." He, of course, didn't reply. She gazed up at him with her still very innocent, blue eyes.

His eyes seemed to stare down at her with a menacing glow. A shiver ran up her spine. _Come closer,_ a voice whispered in her ear. She obeyed, silently, knowing exactly where it had come from. She came so close to him that he almost touched her.

"Yes, dark lord?" She asked. Suddenly, a burst of darkness shot out of his hand and into her. She felt it consume and numb her spirit down to the depths of her soul. It chilled her, and she felt the beating of her heart slow until she couldn't feel it. Her chest felt completely hollow as she gasped and fell to her knees.

Within a single second, all the innocence and light that remained of her vanished, but in its place was given to her power. She could feel it coursing through her veins, and she regained her strength. She stood, staring into the eyes of her master. "Thank you," she bowed then turned and left.

As she started towards the exit, she began to feel a burning sensation in her hands- not painfully, but enough to cause her to flinch. She stared down at them and gawked in amazement at the sight. She raised up two hands completely consumed in blue flame, but untouched by its destruction. _This is the power I have received, she knew._ She smiled and chuckled proudly. _If only I could tell Neinheart._

* * *

 _ **A/N: The one-shots are going to be written out of order, jumping around to different points in time. They will tell a whole story, but for now, they'll just be separate one-shots. Thanks for reading!**_


	2. The Wilting Rose

The tactician of Ereve stared at Blue warmly. The girl who had captured his heart with her innocence, grace, and understanding appeared so dazzlingly in the light shimmering down from the window of the Edelstein Hotel room. Beside her sat a wilting rose whose beauty could have never matched that of his beloved.

He removed the glasses, hat, and overcoat he wore to conceal who he was, and she smiled as he approached her. He hated having to meet under such secretive circumstances, but he doubted the chief knights would approve of him seeing such a high ranking Black Wings commander and neither would her superiors be ok with her seeing the tactician of the very army they sought to destroy. They'd probably hang her for treason if they ever found out. Neinheart refused to let that happen.

"Hello, my dear," He took her hand in his and planted on it a gentle, affectionate kiss.

"Hello, Sir Neinheart," she smiled. The tactician couldn't help but notice that there was something a little off about her white-toothed grin. He figured it was something pertaining to the Black Wings, and if that was the case, she wouldn't be able to talk about it. There had been an agreement between them near the beginning of their hidden dates. A deal that they wouldn't talk about their work and their sides of the conflict so that they wouldn't have betrayed their armies. Neinheart may have been in love with a Black Wing, but he remained a tactician and loyal servant to Cygnus and the Maple Alliance. He dreaded the thought of ever having to meet her in battle.

"How are you, mi'lady Blue?" He asked.

"That rhymed," she chuckled in her charming innocence. "I am well. And you, Mr. Tactician?"

"I'm with you, nothing could be better," he flirted. She giggled. Neinheart looked at the rose that sat beside her. The red pigment of its soft petals were fading brown and crumbling, curling at its dead tips. Death was like a corruption, consuming its former beauty and the goodness it had known in life. "If only this were whole, I'd offer it to you as a gift to match your hair, my lovely Red Mage," he chortled softly. "There's no reason for such things to die like humans."

He laid a finger against one of its petals gently. It crinkled at his touch. "You're still useful, little one," he uttered.

"You're talking to a plant?" Blue rose a brow.

"Yes, I suppose I am," he chuckled, meeting her blue eyes warmly. "It's a shame its dying."

"Why?" She tilted her head, holding naivete in the blacks of her eyes.

"Well," he turned back to the flower. "It reminds me of you, my dear. It's beautiful and stunning, a symbol of love, hope, and strength. Its petals could be used to make dye and through its leaves it breathes oxygen to give us life, and we return the favor. Its living, so it has a place and a purpose in this world just like everyone and everything else." Blue's curious eyes looked at the rose. "That's why it shouldn't die, I suppose," he finished and readjusted his monocle.

"It was beautiful once," she agreed, feeling the petals for herself. Neinheart noted a curious sight as she skimmed the tips of the rose. He couldn't believe his sight, but it looked like the plant was decaying at her touch. _Nonsense,_ he told himself. _My eyes are failing me again._ "But hasn't it served its purpose?" She posed. "Once its done its job, what more could it be used for? What's the point of working it tirelessly past its usefulness without reason? Isn't death just like sleep and sleep like a well-deserved break?"

"Perhaps," Neinheart frowned.

"Once its been used up, what good is it except for it to be thrown out?" She raised both brows. Her hand began to shake, so Neinheart took it in his.

"Are you alright, darling?" He stared into her eyes, forehead wrinkling in concern. She met his stare, pupils dilated wildly.

"I-I'm sorry," she shook her head. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" He asked, feeling her tiny hand continue to tremble.

"Yes, yes I am," she affirmed with a tinge of unusual aggression. _Something most certainly isn't right,_ he thought. _I wish she could tell me._ Painfully, he pulled her bangs aside and kissed her forehead in silence.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she repeated, still sounding agitated. Neinheart sighed and stepped back.

"I must head back now," he said. "Before anyone discovers we're here."

"Yes," she nodded curtly and stared out the window. He frowned. _Maybe someday we'll be able to talk to each other about these things,_ he considered. _But would it be under the rule of the Black Mage with the rebels and myself rotting away in prison, or with my beautiful blue rose kneeling before an Erevian executioner?_ Bile rose in the back of his throat and his heart lurched at the thought. _Why is my heart so divided? So split?_

* * *

Blue continued to stare out the window until her beloved had left, dawning his disguise. She clutched a fist, her nails digging into her skin as her hand twitched and fidgeted. The corruption inside of her was such a compelling force that she was still struggling to keep the darkness at bay. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Neinheart. She felt her eyes begin to sting. _What if I never learn to control it?_ She wondered. _What if I accidentally kill him?_

She felt the hand she had rested on her knee begin to burn, and she jerked it up, staring at it in worry. She held a tiny, blue flame in her palm. What a waste, she scoffed, shaking her hand to try to put it out. _That the Black Mage himself would bless me with such abilities only for my cold heart to be warmed by the enemy and divided on the battlefield._

She sniffled and looked down at the plant sitting on the window. Her corruption had touched it, speeding up the process of decay. It had happened right before her eyes, and she was sure the tactician had seen it too. She also knew that he couldn't and wouldn't ask so that she remained safe.

"Why would he fight for such an insignificant life as yours?" She asked it. "What's so bad about a measly plant like yourself dying? It puts you out of your misery." It drooped in light of her words. "Let me help you," she whispered softly. With the hand that had bared flame, she grabbed the rose and squeezed it, the petals cracking and breaking under her crushing grasp. Then she felt her hand warm and the plant began to melt. It crumbled into ash, trickling out of the palm of her hand.

She released her grip and stared down in sick satisfaction, seeing the black stain of the ash. She had destroyed it. She had killed it. It was nothing, but ash because of her, and it felt good. _How long until I lose control?_


End file.
